


the purple of your skin

by rosecake



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bruises, Multi, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 22:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20514611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/pseuds/rosecake
Summary: “This is a bad idea.”“Yes,” says Jyn. “Do you have a better one?”





	the purple of your skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penknife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/gifts).

Exhaustion weighs Cassian down, making every injury he’s collected over the past few weeks ache as if the damage were freshly dealt. His ribs burn and his back protests every time he shifts. The injured leg doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s gone numb after all the bacta treatments, and it feels unnervingly like it might give out underneath him any second.

Fortunately, Cassian’s got plenty of experience shutting out pain. “Where are we hitting them next?”

Draven looks at him as if he’s lost his mind, and Cassian clasps his hands tightly behind his back to stop himself from bristling. “Nowhere,” says Draven. “You and your team aren’t stepping foot of this ship now that we’ve finally got you pinned down. Have you seen a holo feed recently?”

Cassian has, in passing, enough that he’s already caught glimpses of the wanted posters Draven pulls up on his screen. There’s a bounty out for every member of the team that made it off Scarif and a few the Empire doesn’t realize died there. The bounty on Jyn is as high as he’s ever seen the Empire go - ten million credits, right up there with Mon Mothma and Leia Organa. They want her for her own crimes, and he figures since Galen’s already dead they probably want to punish her for his as well. Cassian recognizes her booking photo from Wobani, that same familiar photo given to him back when Draven first instructed him to hunt her down. That was less than a month ago, but right now it feels like a lifetime.

Bodhi’s photo is his Navy ID, crisp and clear, with a bounty of a million credits. The Empire does like to come down hard on traitors, to make examples of them, but it’s still too much. Prices that high only advertise just how badly the Empire is hurting.

He wishes he could take more satisfaction from it. They only want half a million for Cassian - same as the rest of the crew - but what bothers him about the poster for him isn’t the price, it’s the photo they use. It’s a photo of him in the Meycren dockyard taken from a security camera feed, and unfortunately it’s a very good one. High resolution, just as clear as the photos Jyn and Bodhi had posed for.

He was there half a year ago, before he’d ever even heard the name Erso, and he wonders how far back Imperial Intelligence has traced his movements. How many people got burned in the process? How many contacts had flown under the radar until he’d brought Imperial scrutiny down on them? His whole network’s in shambles and he has no way of even knowing the extent of it.

“You and your people are done with fieldwork,” says Draven.

“When exactly did they become my people?“

“Don’t be dense,” says Draven. His voice is tight, and he sounds just as exhausted as Cassian feels. “The rest of the leadership agrees. They want all of you out of Imperial reach.” That’s the end of it, really, unless Cassian wants to abscond with a rogue team again. There’s a part of him that does want to, but without intelligence to work from he’s not sure where he’d even start. “For how long?”

“Who knows? Until we win, probably. Rest up for a day or two and then we’ll shift you to operations.”

Cassian swallows down the urge to say something insubordinate and leaves, heading for his newly assigned quarters on _Home One_. The assignment’s so new he’s never actually laid eyes on the room before, and he has to check back against the ship schematics to figure out where it is.

He’s a little taken aback when Jyn and Bodhi are already there waiting for him. The room’s got a bunk bed in it, and they’re sitting on the bottom bed, right next to each other. “Hi,” says Jyn.

“I thought you were still in the medbay.” The last Cassian had heard Jyn was supposed to be there for the rest of the week.

“They let me out early,” says Jyn. She has a bottle of something in her hand, and she and Bodhi look like they’ve been waiting for a while. Their shoes are off and sheets of the bed are mussed beneath them. “They needed the bed there, so I figured we could sleep here instead.”  
“I hope it’s okay,” says Bodhi. “They didn’t have enough rooms for all us.”

“It was either this or sleep in the shuttle,” says Jyn. “Although, honestly, there might be more room in the shuttle.”

“They’re trying to source more ships,” says Cassian. They’d given up on permanent planet-side bases after Hoth, but that meant the fleet had to suddenly absorb more people that it could comfortably fit. But while the room might be tight, it still had two beds, and he could sleep on the floor. And it wasn’t as if any of them had any personal belongings they needed to find room for. “This is fine for now.”

“Are you going to be on the ship for long?” asks Bodhi. He sounds slightly nervous, like he’s worried the answer is going to be _no_.  
“Probably,” says Cassian. “Draven said no more field work.” He doesn’t know if that’ll really last though. Draven will get desperate, eventually, and then he’ll be willing to overlook the risks. “For now, at least.”

“Good,” says Jyn, and Bodhi nods along with her. “Any more and you were going to collapse.”

She must be able to see Cassian’s ambivalence on his face, because she reaches out for him. The room is so narrow she can take his hand without standing up. Cassian yields when she pulls him closer, and he goes to sit next to her but she shifts and has him sit between her and Bodhi instead.  
She doesn’t leave quite enough space, and her thigh presses against him on one side and Bodhi’s presses against him on the other, and for a moment he stares at the blank wall across from him and wills his mind to go just as blank.

“Come on,” says Jyn, passing him the bottle, and it’s light in his hand. “You can go ahead and finish this off. It’ll make you feel better.” There’s no label, but when he brings it to his mouth he recognizes the smell of the awful bootleg rice alcohol the Mon Cala make. He downs it in a few gulps, trying to swallow it fast enough that he doesn’t actually have to taste it. It’s bad enough to make him miss the sickeningly sweet garbage the pilots use to brew up on Yavin, but at least it’s strong.

“How did you manage to drink nearly a whole bottle of this?” he asks.

“Desperation,” says Bodhi. He rests his head on Cassian’s shoulder and sighs. “At least the alcohol’s better than the food.”

Jyn’s looking at him, her fingers trailing over his as she takes the empty bottle from him and tucks it under the bed for the time being. And pressed here between the two of them, it’s hard to come up with a reason to ignore the way Jyn looks at him, or the way Bodhi is sitting far closer than he needs to.

They aren’t on a mission. They aren’t deep in an Imperial installation, and they aren’t under fire. There’s no princesses or potential Jedi that need rescuing, no bases that need evacuating. They’re safe, or at least as safe as they’ll ever manage to get, but adrenaline still courses through him as Jyn reaches for his jaw, pulling his head to the side so that she can kiss him.

He waits for a second, because there are two other people in this room and he doesn’t need to be the one to mention that this is a bad idea. Except Jyn is kissing him, and Bodhi is sliding his arms around him, right there with her.

So he says it. “This is a bad idea.”

“Yes,” says Jyn. “Do you have a better one?”

This is dangerous. The Empire wants ten million for her, a million for Bodhi. They’re never really going to be safe. “We’re taking this too far,” he says.

“It’s already gone too far,” says Jyn. She pushes him back and straddles him, and he still thinks it’s a bad idea but he helps her get his shirt off. “We’re already too tangled up in each other to separate.”

She’s right, he doesn’t have any better ideas to handle this tension that’s been there from what feels like the first instant they met. And that’s revisionist history, he knows it - his first impression of Jyn was that she was selfish and petty, his first impression of Bodhi was that he was a pathetic, broken mess. He’s not sure exactly when he’d realized he was wrong, but looking back on it now it feels instantaneous. Certainly long before he’d actually admitted to his mistakes.

He moans as she rocks her against him, holding him down while Bodhi strips out of his clothes. There’s a scar still healing across his shoulder, from the battle on Hoth - Cassian remembers it, remembers patching it up for him, remembers the sharp sting of panic at the thought that he might bleed out on the ice.

He’d hadn’t even known him for a month at that point, but it hadn’t mattered.

Cassian reaches out for him and Bodhi nestles against his side, holding him as Jyn slows. She pulls her own top off and Cassian winces. There are old bruises along her side and stomach he’s seen before, from Scarif and Hoth, yellow and faded, but there are are fresh ones layered over them, a deep dark purple across her hip and curving around her back. She stands and turns slightly as she steps out of the rest of her clothing and he gets a good look at her back, bruised in so many colors it looks like a nebula painted on her skin.

“What happened to you?”

She skims a hand along her side for a second before she reaches for his pants, dragging them down just far enough to free his cock. “It’s nothing,” she says, and the feel of her as she settles back into his lap is almost enough to distract him. “I fell across a platform while we were escaping the Hutts. It’ll heal.”

“Jyn,” he says, because he’s worried about her. He rests a hand on her hip, on the side that isn’t dark with bruises.

He’s worried about her and he’s worried about Bodhi and he’s not sure how exactly that happened, how they both turned into people who matter to him. They only ever should have been targets. A petty thief, an Imperial pilot.

“It’s fine,” she says, and he almost says something in response but Bodhi takes his cock in one hand, dragging his fingers roughly along his shaft, and he forgets what he’s going to say. “You’ve got plenty of bruises of your own.”

She rests her hands on his ribs, against the blue-green marks on his own skin where he took a baton to the chest, and when she hears his sharp intake of breath she leans in harder, resting enough of her weight against his bruises to sting. He rocks up into Bodhi’s hand, and Bodhi sighs against his neck.

“He likes that,” Bodhi says to Jyn, and she smiles, pressing her thumbs down harder until Cassian hisses.

“You do, don’t you?” says Jyn.

“Yes,” says Cassian. “Yes, please, Jyn,” he says as she drags her fingers down his chest, pressing hard into the places where the marks are the darkest. It hurts and it feels amazing at the same time, and part of him wants her to keep going until pain outweighs the pleasure. Wants her to break him apart. But mostly he just wants to come.

Bodhi kisses his shoulder and then bites down, hard and unexpected, and that’s nearly enough to do it. Jyn’s weighing him down, heavy enough to keep his hips from jerking up into Bodhi’s hand. “Harder, Bodhi,” says Jyn, her cunt pressing up against Bodhi’s knuckles as he drags his hand up and down Cassian’s cock. Bodhi listens to her, seems to accept that she understands what it is Cassian needs, and tightens his fist. He pulls up, hard, hard enough that it tips Cassian right over the edge into the white hot bliss of orgasm.

“Hold me,” says Jyn, sliding closer to him, and he’s so sensitive he can barely handle the feeling of her thighs as she presses against him. He doesn’t want to let her go, though.

There’s not really enough room for three people on the bed but they manage it. Cassian lies back with Jyn on top of him, holding her tightly to his chest as Bodhi settles between her legs. He holds onto her as Bodhi fucks her, and with her head resting on his shoulder he can look down at her, watch her as her whole body shakes every time Bodhi thrusts into her. He runs a hand along the bruising on her side and feels a cold spike of fear run through him at the thought of how easily she could have died.

She’s not dead, though. Jyn’s warm and flush and absolutely bursting with life on top of him and so is Bodhi, so does it really matter if they all almost died? They’re still alive right now, and there’s a strange kind of beauty to the colors left on their skin.

Cassian reaches in between their moving bodies and pressed his fingers into Jyn’s clit, and he feels a joyous rush of satisfaction as she cries out. Every time she moves she shifts against Cassian’s cock, and he needs time and he needs actual rest but he wants to fuck her so badly. He wants Bodhi to fuck him open, he wants Jyn to hold his face to her cunt with her legs until he can barely breath, he wants to be trapped in between them for hours at a time. He wants all kinds of things now that he’s really letting himself imagine it.

Cassian keeps pushing his fingers into Jyn until her legs tremble and she grabs his wrist, holding onto him while she comes. Bodhi only takes a second longer before he stills, and Cassian can feel where they’re joined together, can feel Bodhi’s cock spasm as he comes inside her.

“We can’t,” says Bodhi, breathless, and he has to pause for a moment before he can speak again, ”we can’t actually sleep like this.”

“We can sleep on the floor,” says Cassian, even though he makes no effort to move. Their combined weight is starting to crush, and his joints are already in bad enough shape, but he still doesn’t want the moment to end. “We’ll figure something out.”

Somehow, he thinks it’ll all work out. Even if just for now.


End file.
